Page 80 of The Art of Taking Second Chances

“I’m happy for you two knuckleheads.”

I hugged him back with vigor. “Thank you, but right now I need food and a drink.”

“Sameer has ordered Thai and insisted I stay for dinner. You’ve made him efficient and attentive. How did you manage that?” Mihir walked to the kitchen and poured me red wine. I followed him.

“I didn’t,” I said. “Maybe Aarti did? That’s convenient for me. I’d get a fully-trained hu—”

Mihir laughed, slapping my arm, and walked out to Sameer.

“I heard that,” Sameer yelled from the living room, where he was buried behind his laptop screen. “It’s okay, Tara. You can start thinking of me as your husband. I’m not scared of the M-word.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Let’s first get past our current situation.”

When the food arrived, I regaled Mihir with the details of the dance that Aarti’s entire clan was participating in.

“I can’t wait to see that.” He jeered at Sameer.

“Terrific.” Sameer sighed.

“I texted Aarti, but she’s insistent on having me there,” I said, gripping a perfectly charred piece of broccoli between my chopsticks. “I’ve made so many excuses, she probably thinks I’m either a snob or that I hate her. She even asked me if she’d done something to offend me. Now I wish I had said ‘no’ when she first sent me the invitation. But things were different then.”

“Don’t make it too complicated.” Mihir, in his authoritative voice, advised. “Unless you’re ready to come clean before Saturday.”

The three of us exchanged grave looks before Sameer and I shook our heads, hung low.

“You can ride with me.” Mihir offered. “We’ll be out of there as soon as it’s polite to leave.”

I nodded. “Thank you,” I said, then looked up at him. “But I’d hate to be a third wheel if you’re bringing a date.”

He shook his head. “I’m currently single.”

“Again?” Sameer asked, holding his chopsticks halfway to his mouth.

“What do you mean, again?” I asked.

Sameer smirked. “Do you want to explain or should I?” he teased Mihir, who gazed back with insouciance.

Sameer turned to me. “Remember all the names you called me—playboy, Casanova, womanizer? Mihir here puts all those to shame. He’s the real bad boy.”

“Oh?” I gawked at Mihir, who continued to work on his pork-and-veggie Pad Kee Mow with expert chopsticks. “Rich, handsome, brilliant, with just enough gruffness to add mystery?”

“But with a heart of gold. Oh, and great in the sack,” Sameer added with a grin. “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Maybe we should find someone to tame him.” I nudged Sameer. “Someone who could tug at the strings of his heart.”

“Are you both through? Just because you found someone doesn’t mean I’m looking for it.” Mihir placed the chopsticks down on his empty plate and left the table to fetch another beer while Sameer and I shared a giggle.

“This man can’t be tamed.” He returned to his seat and flipped open his bottle with a flourish. “And those things you listed—all hearsay, all bullshit.”

“Oh, so you’re terrible in bed?” I sipped my wine and blinked at him innocently. Sameer winked at me, then burst into a laugh.

“Except that,” Mihir said, tipping his bottle at me.

When Mihir dropped me off at home, I called Sujit again. He texted back to say he was busy and would call back later. He apologized for being unavailable these past few days and said he missed me. Two more days, I reminded myself as I turned in that night.

Chapter 25

Tara

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